Thanks to the benefit of growing up on Mars and it’s stronger than Earth gravity, Becker ripped the decking panel from its mounting in a single move, tossing it one side with ease. Peering down into the hole of blinking indicators, pristine cabling and throbbing transfer conduits, he reached inside to disconnect the ODN lines for this section.

Each compartment had to be individually disconnected before his crew could come through and mark up the structural bulkheads for slicing and demolition. Taking a break before moving to the next section, he stepped over the gap in the floor to peer out the viewport.

Gazing up the length of one of the ships pylons he noted the missing nacelle that should have Ben locates at its tip. Thoroughly disappointed, he shook his head from side to side as he muttered, “Damn shame that, sheered right off.”

With the environmental controls on the ship out offline, the heat from the still active power system had permeated across the ship. He wiped the gathering sweat from his brow with the cuff of his overalls, and just as he reached for his combadge to check on the status of the rest of his team the comm system bleeped.

“Now Hear This, Now Hear This. This is the Commander. We’re receiving reports of a massive co-ordinated attack on the home quadrants by the Borg Collective. Communication with Starfleet Command has been lost. All crew are to attend their emergency stations, and prepare for a combat situation. Team Leaders, report to the Command Centre for immediate briefing.”

- Command Centre, Deep Space Four, 15 minutes later

“=/\=Admiral Nechayev to all Starfleet vessels. The Borg, our most lethal enemy, have begun a massive invasion of the Alpha quadrant. Attacks against our homeworlds, our very way of life, is currently underway. We do not yet know the size or disposition or strength of the enemy forces but all indications point to a massive assault against defenses across the Federation and beyond. All personnel are ordered to mount a coordinated resistance as swiftly as possible from any starbase, outpost or world where forces can gather. =/\=”

The audible message played over and over again, the holographic display in the middle of the command centre lighting up as new information on the battle came flowing in from numerous sources. Every so often the transmission would cut to brief interludes of the tactical communications between vessels in the throngs of battle.

The Station’s Commander rounded the operations console in the middle of the command centre. Their senior staff had all spent the last hour processing the information that was coming into them, a few officers had start spit balling ideas of how they could help with the fight against the Borg.

“No, Listen.” Becker stepped through the gathering of people, to take a place near the centre console. “We have three space worthy vessels which we haven’t started decommissioning yet, two Norway class vessels and a Steamrunner class. They’re in reasonably good condition, not too fast, but operational. We have thousands, if not hundreds of thousands of munitions in storage that are due for reassignment.”

The Commander nodded in agreement, abruptly cutting Ethan off, “Right. Get to it. Fuel and resupply those ships. I’ll take the Steamrunner, the XO and Lt Commander Foster, take a Norway each. Let’s take the fight to the Borg. Lt. Becker, while we’re away, I’m leaving you to man the fort, no doubt other ships will come here looking for supply. Make sure we’re ready for that. I want those ships ready to go in 45 minutes!”

“Red Team has the Steamrunner!” Ethan shouted as he turned on his heel and made a hasty path for the nearest turbolift, he tapped his combadge, “Becker to Red Team, report to the Steamrunner at Dry Dock Six.”